No More Ice Floes in the Annisquam
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of interest:
“Swinging doors,”

“Thy brethren call thee, and thy fathers, and thy son,
Thy nurses and thy mothers, thy sisters and thy daughters
Weep at thy souls disease, and the Divine Vision is darkend”
[Jerusalem 4:12]

and “medial periods,”

“But Oothoon is not so. a virgin fill’d with virgin fancies”
[Visions 6:21]

in Blake.
Thanks Mary Lynn Johnson and John E. Grant.
Formal innovation.
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the modern cornucopia is the full ‘fridge
see: Perloff, “Against Transparency”
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Today I feasted on words at Mark’s weblog.
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Day before yesterday I read two essays at Chris’ weblog.
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When we move I’ll miss the munelicht on our little cove at lowtide.
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Last night finished watching _from a whisper to a scream: the living history of irish music_
Album o’ the doo-long-day: Loveless, My Bloody Valentine
Song o’ the doo-long-day: Alternative Ulster, Stiff Little Fingers
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Wish the documentary had dealt more w/ the troubles in Northern Ireland (especially in Belfast {Stiff Little Fingers} and Derry {Undertones}) & its impact on the bands—even bands in the south (“Sunday Bloody Sunday,” etc.). One of the best parts of the three part documentary dealt w/ the exploits of Bono, Gavin Friday, and their gang in late ‘70s(?) Dublin.
Also could’ve dealt more w/ the first gen. Irish in England: Johnny Rotten, Elvis Costello, Boy George. (Notice a trend w/ the names.) Morrissey wasn’t even mentioned (perhaps because he kept at least part of his Irish name(?)—seems to have thought “Stephen Patrick Morrissey” might’ve been too Irish).
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Oh, and Bob Geldof is a pompous ass.